Another Chance
by Sara Jaye
Summary: The life and times of Ylisseans in a Victorian AU setting.
1. don't sell yourself short

This is dedicated to Maria and our PSL 'verse of amazing.

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When he was younger, Ricken didn't mind that he was a little shorter than the other boys. He still had plenty of time to grow, and by the time he was a young man maybe he'd even be taller than most of his peers.

When he was thirteen and still shorter than the others, he kept hoping. Mother always said he was a late bloomer, some people just took longer than others and he would grow in due time. So he ignored the japes and taunts of his taller classmates, the older women who called him a little munchkin darling, tried to cope with having to ask for help reaching books on the taller shelves in the library.

But his second year at the academy came, and suddenly he was fifteen and even half the first year students towered over him. The bullies still taunted him, women still pinched his cheeks and he still needed help taking things off the high shelves.

Worse, now he had memories of a previous life to cope with, a life in which he was the exact same height and stayed small even as an old man. So many things now were the same as they were then; himself, Henry, Nowi, Chrom, Lissa, Sumia, his feelings for the librarian who'd been his wife and the mother of his child. A child who grew up to tower over him as much as everyone else did.

Ricken knew it was stupid to fuss over something he couldn't control. His friends, the people he'd loved back then and still loved now as well as his kinder classmates liked him just as he was. They didn't care now and they hadn't cared back then, only the creeps like Jules and Luke and Debbie did.

But it still bothered him. It was ridiculous, and it still bothered him. Was he doomed to spend another lifetime struggling to catch up to everyone only to fall behind even in his golden years? If he ever got married and had children, would they tower over him the way his son had?

"Hey-o, Ricken! What's got you down?" A sudden arm around his shoulders, followed by a squeeze to his arm snapped him back to the present. He looked up to see Henry, his lover then and now smiling worriedly at him. Sumia, one of their best friends and the past Henry's wife and eventual widow looked across the table, her face gentle and concerned. Nowi, one of his best friends since the beginning looked like she wouldn't let go of his arm until he smiled.

_You're my Ricken, even if you never grow another inch. It's not your height I love, it's** you**! Nya ha ha!_

_I find our vertical contrast fascinating, to be quite truthful. And you more than compensate for it with your immense intelligence._

_Hey, I'm short too, and I'm a thousand years old! Chin up, you!_

_I know this doesn't mean much coming from me, but...you're a good person. Just believe in yourself!_

_It doesn't matter how big you are outside, but who you are inside. You're growing into a good man, Ricken, and I've never been prouder._

_Getting to know such a wonderful father helps make up for five years of solitude and regret. Thank you for reaching out to me._

A wife, a son, a lover, his dearest friends, the man he looked up to like a brother. In the end, their words meant more than the japes of bullies or the pinches of old women.

"I'm okay," he said. He would be, as long as he kept their words in mind and trusted in them. And they were trusting in _him_ to come up with a good topic for their history project. "Now, I have a few ideas we can all discuss..." He opened his composition book to the most recent page, displaying a full list of topics.

One thing he would never be short on were ideas.


	2. resurgences

Ever since she was a child, she'd go out of her way to defend any classmate who's being picked on, or stand up to a stern teacher who enjoys giving out punishment more than molding young minds. Even when the children forget to thank her or call her "Mari, Mari, quite contrary" she still helps them. Being the daughter of an important judge, she can do no less.

When her family moves from the island of Great Britain to the city of London, she's enrolled in Grannvale Academy. She doesn't expect to make any friends there, just like at her former school. Despite her position she knows she can be difficult, and those "friends" of hers, children of her father's friends, only spend time with her out of obligation. She's used to being mostly alone, and despite her irritation at never being thanked for her deeds, she tries not to care. Who needs those ingrates, anyway?

But the moment she steps into her classroom, something changes.

"Hi! I'm Lissa!" The girl's hand reaches for hers and all of a sudden something comes flooding back. She's a cute little blonde, about Maribelle's height with blonde pigtails and an energetic smile, and she's the first one who's ever bothered to approach Maribelle._ I was alone in the dark, and you offered me your kindness._ No, it couldn't be...

"H...hello. My name is-"

"Maribelle."

"Eh?!" Could this girl be feeling it, too? The sudden sense of familiarity, the possibility that-

"The teacher told us your name already," Lissa says, and Maribelle deflates. _So much for that_. Perhaps she's overreacting. Yes, it must be, simple new-school nerves are making her see things that aren't truly there. Lissa is reaching out to her, and that's the best she could have hoped for on her first day. The teacher, a tall brunette man in a severe black suit, approaches the board and calls Maribelle to the front.

"If you would introduce and tell us a bit about yourself, we would be most grateful."

All through class, it keeps nagging her. Not just Lissa, but quite a few of her classmates. Another girl with blonde hair and a childish face, a short redhead always eager to give the answers, a boy with a thick country accent and an X-shaped scar on one cheek. _Who are you? Why so I feel as though I know you?_ And the teacher, a man as severe as his suit. It's a miracle she can pay attention to the lesson at all.

During break period, Lissa takes her by the hand and leads her outside to the gardens, her favorite place to sit and think by herself. They're beautiful, even more than the ones outside her family's manor...and very familiar. Violets and gardenias, white daffodils, yellow tulips, roses of many colors, their scent overpowering. Maribelle quickly sits down on one of the wrought-iron benches, closing her eyes.

"It's splendid," she whispers. "Why, darling, it-" She cuts herself off, realizing what she's just said. _Are you mad?! You've just met her, why do you call her that?!_ "Er, Lissa. My apologies, I-"

"Are you all right?" Lissa sits down beside her, looking concerned. "You've seemed a bit preoccupied since we left class."

"Ah, I'm sure it's only my nerves. First day jitters, one might call them." She clears her throat, smoothing her curls and her skirt down. She must remain calm, Lissa is the first person who's tried to be her friend thus far and it wouldn't do any good to scare her. "As I was saying, this garden is simply breathtaking!"

"Isn't it? I always come here whenever I want to be alone. As much as I love spending time with all my friends, it can be a little much sometimes." Lissa smiles, taking Maribelle's hand and there's_ that_ feeling again. "So, tell me a little about your old school? Why did you come here?"

"Well...it wasn't very much, really. A bit dull, not nearly as nice," she says. "Father thought I'd get a better education here."

"Do you miss your old friends?"

"Oh..." Maribelle bites her lip, despite how unladylike such a habit is. "Well, to tell the truth I've never had much in the way of friends...or any, in truth. Other children tend to whisper about me, and at my old school I was always alone..." Her heart races as she faces Lissa, trying to stem the emotion welling up in her. "Until you. You're the first person who was ever-"

"-willing to give you a chance." Lissa turns pale, her hand reaching out ever so slowly to touch Maribelle's face, and Maribelle dares to let herself hope. "But I didn't do anything special! I just-"

"-wanted to be friends."

"Oh, Maribelle, it _is_ you." And Lissa's hugging her so tightly she can barely breathe and doesn't care; Maribelle hugs her back and lets the tears spill over, _Lissa, oh Lissa, darling, it's you, it couldn't have been anyone else but you!_ Everything else is forgotten, the faint yells of other students and the sound of feet on the cobblestones and even the many flowers, all she can see and feel is Lissa, _Lissa..._

"I knew it," she whispers when they've calmed down. "All along, I knew it. Just like in our previous life, you offered me your warmth and kindness!"

"I didn't realize it until you started telling your story in class," Lissa admits, "but I was hoping it was you. After all we shared back then..." Yes, Maribelle remembers, they'd not just been the closest of friends but lovers as well. They'd had two sons between them and an old trusted friend of Lissa's brother. But that was then...something like that was not only unheard of, but completely forbidden in this time.

But she wants this. Even if they have to hide it from everyone, even if they have to play by the rules of today's society she still wants this. And from the look in Lissa's eyes she knows she wants it, too.

Their first kiss in this lifetime is clumsy and nervous, despite all they'd done together previously. Chaste, to avoid unfortunate rumors if they're caught. But it's Lissa, and Maribelle wouldn't trade a moment with her for all the deepest and most passionate kisses in the world.


End file.
